


jailbreak

by DeconstructedIronhide (InsertCoolName)



Series: courting a Constructicon [3]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alien Planet, BV Ironhide, Background Relationships, G1 Constructicons, Gen, Kidnapping, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Other, Rescue Missions, although really Ironhide was arrested not kidnapped
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-26 18:34:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15006875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsertCoolName/pseuds/DeconstructedIronhide
Summary: Don't go to Carsus. It's a bad idea.Or: the time Ironhide got arrested on a hostile organic planet and the Constructicons came and broke his aft outta jail.





	jailbreak

**Author's Note:**

> An 'unbind me' drabble requested by and featuring @underconstructicons'... Constructicons. Mostly Hook, Longhaul, and Bonecrusher.
> 
> As usual, not beta read.

The air inside the cell is heavy enough to smother a mech. It seems to stick to the inside of Ironhide’s vents as he circulates, and to his plating. He tries to keep it flared out to keep himself cool, but… he’s _tired._ So very _tired_.

Carsaic sedatives are a bitch.

The organic planet had once been mechanical-friendly, a long time ago. Cybertronians had been welcomed with open arms by the Carsai. Trade had been plentiful between the species. Battles had been fought and won alongside each other. Of course, Carsus cut its ties after the war had started, but it had remained a neutral planet that neither faction dared try to take for themselves in fear of making a powerful enemy. Cybertronians were still allowed on the planet as long as they didn’t cause trouble.

Ironhide hasn’t visited the planet in a long time, but - considering the fact that he’d gotten ambushed, drugged, and thrown in jail almost as soon as he’d set pede on the planet - he _thinks_ something messed that up…

This can’t end well for him.

The guard has been gone for fifteen minutes now, and for fifteen minutes Ironhide has been telling himself to _find a way out of this damn mess._ He’s tried sitting up multiple times now, tried to stand and make his way to the cell door, but each time he does the room starts to spin and the weight in his helm threatens to send him tumbling to the floor so he just lays back down, just for a while. Just until it wears off.

Carsaic sedatives are a _bitch._

Offlining his optics, Ironhide groans. He needs to get out of here. This is his best opportunity _to_ get out of here. No guard in the room, his confiscated weapons in sight - he’s pretty sure they even left the damn cell door unlocked. Carsaic arrogance at it’s finest. Arrogance deserved, given how hard the sedative is hitting Ironhide, but still. Arrogance.

It would be _so fucking easy if he could just–_

“–like a damn maze. How in the Pit are we s’posed to find him?”

_…Longhaul?_

“Have we checked in here yet?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

_Hook. And Bonecrusher._

Ironhide brings his optics back online and turns his helm in time to see the door swing open. Longhaul’s right up front with a blaster raised and his optic band scanning the room. Ironhide moves a little, and the mech’s helm snaps in his direction. “’Crusher, Hook, we’ve got him!”

“‘Haul?” Ironhide slurs, trying to move upright. Longhaul rushes into the room and over to the cell, Bonecrusher ducking through the doorway behind him with his own battered blaster at the ready and Hook right alongside him. “Wha’s goin’–”

“Don’t you know a rescue when you see one?” Hook asks gruffly, sliding past Longhaul when he opens the cell door with ease - unlocked, just as Ironhide had suspected. Carsaic arrogance. The medic kneels beside the modest cot Ironhide’s been set up on and does a quick scan. His optic band narrows. “You have a compound in your system that I don’t recognize. I’ll need–”

“Sed’tive,” Ironhide interrupts, trying and failing to wave the medic off. “Nothin’ you c’n do ‘bout it. Gotta let it run ‘s course.”

“Sounds like you have experience with it.”

“One ‘r two of ‘em.” Five. Some of his previous planetary visits hadn’t gone well, he’ll admit that. He’ll also blame Ratchet for them. But they were never _this_ bad. “Cars’ic sed’tives’re a bitch.”

“Quite.” Hook stands and brings a servo to the side of his helm. “We found him, Scrapper. Tell Mixmaster and Scavenger to get ready.”

“Mix’s here?”

“‘Course he is,” Longhaul snorts. He and Hook pull Ironhide off the cot and to his pedes. Ironhide goes limp between the two of them, optics flickering in dizziness. Longhaul grunts. “Don’t pass out on us now, we’re not outta this mess yet.”

Ironhide doesn’t have anything to say back to that. There’s a good chance he might actually pass out.

The Constructicons lead-slash-carry Ironhide out of the cell, Bonecrusher taking point as they leave the room. The large mech pauses and snickers over his shoulder before they enter the hallway. “Mix says you’re never allowed to leave his sight again,” he says, sounding entirely too amused. Longhaul snorts again and even Hook gets a vaguely amused glint in his optic band.

Ironhide wants to say something back to _that_ , but it’ll have to wait. He really is going to pass out now.


End file.
